Aftermath
by lumos maximum
Summary: Aftermath: A consequence, especially of a disaster or misfortune. The misfortune is what brought them together, the consequence is what they're not grasping. Lavender Brown/Harry Potter. Written for The Quote Challenge.


**SWEDISHA/N:** Written in a haste, really, so its not my finest hours. I don't know if it could turn out better with this pairing that I have absolutely no clue about! AND I don't know why my fanfics lately turn out to be moody (except Dramione's Counting Days that seems to be more . . . upbeat. *hint*.) This is written for **The Quote Challenge **held by** TooManyLetters** over at **HPFFC!**  
Prompt: Aftermath  
Quote: "Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it"  
Ship: Harry/Lavender

.**.as always reviews are needed..**

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**Aftermath**  
By: Lumos Maximum

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Lavender had always been oblivious. When Ronald Weasley first started to look appealing she had never known that it was going to lead her to this moment right here, with one hand raised to knock on a grey apartment door. But it did, and for that she might thank him. For everything else, she hated him. She had been dumb when she kissed him the first time, seeing Hermione's face go stiff with sincere hurt in the corner of her eye. She remembers not much from that first kiss besides Hermione, only smirking in the middle of it and that was horrible and now when she thought about it she doubted that Ron remembered anything else than Hermione too. What followed however was wonderful because how much of a nitwit Ron could be at times he had liked her with sincerity, at least to begin with.

The problem had never been her; she realized it when she stood with her hand ready to knock on the grey apartment door. The problem had been that Hermione Granger had been a little more _right_ and Ron had been hers since the beginning of time. She never realized that being heartbroken by Ron would lead to loose commitments and unstable relationships; neither did she know that she would be as messed up as she was when it came to love either. But it was easy to blame Ron, so she did, when the truth was that it was her upbringing that had caused her to not fully understand how to love another person in that way. It was not like she was like Ron's best friend, Harry Potter, who had gone through hell and back with a lightening scar as a proof, she thought. Now there's a guy that has to be more messed up than she was, she thought with a smile on her lips.

Harry, or the Golden Boy as they called him was sitting with a far from five star dinner in his lap when Lavender was standing outside a grey door somewhere far away from his thoughts. The blend taste of quickly heated vegetables and beef never could compare to Ginny's but at least he could eat. It was with a scorn face that he remembered Ginny who were a distant, painful memory along with the other he chose to not reminisce about. For a boy, now a man, who had to endure a lot of pain in his life the memory of Ginny Weasley, was the most disastrous of the all. Simply because he had loved her but his cautious, suspicious and frighten version of love had never been enough for her. He told himself that it was for her sake; life had thought him that those you learnt to love died. Truth was he when he was allowed to love he didn't know how. Ginny never understood him, she was brought up with love as her first word so she needed love but he needed time to learn it.

The sight of seeing Ginny in a muggle shop, leaning over to kiss Dean Thomas with such a feverish look in her eyes was what broke him and he realized in that moment that there were worse things than dying and coming back. He loathed the memory of Ginny with intensity and her voice always repeated itself in his head. He had packed his bags hastily, telling Ginny what he saw and told her that he had no feelings towards what he saw and that he was leaving her with that. They had been fighting over his lack of reaction, his children sound asleep in their rooms above, and she had been crying that he knew nothing about loving a woman. Her final words were those that echoed and made him hate her with intensity; the smooth, almost ghostlike voice had told said that just like Blaise, Abbot, the Patil sisters and Ron's Brown he would end up alone simply because he chose to do so. He still believes her because not being able to love was his entire fault and learning to hate was easier and if he could tell Ginny that he had learnt to hate her, he would've.

Lavender Brown had been standing outside alone for too long now so finally she knocked the grey door and stood still, anticipating and without knowing it, smiling.

He let his broccoli and beef hit the floor when he got up to answer his front door, his dark cloud leaving him slowly.

As soon as the grey door flung open she said, "I hate you, Ron, I hate you so much," and she felt all the anger leave her. It was okay now, finally, when she dared to knock on that door and confess.

Harry had stared into the pair of familiar browns when he answered the door and was once remembered about the all the feelings that bubbled up when he was at his darkest hours. "I hate you, Ginny Weasley."

"I hate you, Ron," she repeated, now chanting those words in her head.

"I don't hate you tough, Lavender Brown," Harry said and out of nervous habit he let one hand run through his hair.

Lavender Brown stared at the messy haired boy, who was Harry Potter clutching onto his gray apartment door and he looked at her, both of them with a small smile across their lips. It was he who took her hand and dragged her in, letting the gray door shut behind them but it was always she who kissed him first. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it, he knew, but kissing her was more than feeling numb for a second. It felt like the opposite, it felt like feeling every little inch of pain he ever felt. She too hurt while kissing him, a torturing near-death pain that spread through her veins. He felt alive when he gasped for air, escaping the pain but she felt alive when she pressed her lips against his once again, feeling enough to know that she lived.

They were kissing each other roughly now, swopping fluids in rapid speed with a desperate and almost fanatical hope in that what they were doing was going to heal whatever piece of them that was broken. The following day would be bitter, an indication that they both were messed up when it came to love, but they didn't mind it now because right now they were unwillingly so passionate about each other that they could not get further than pushing each other up towards the grey door. If they knew what falling in love was they would've realized that it was exactly what they were doing but they didn't know; they only knew the pain love had caused them.

In the end, when the dust settled and the anger left them, they would share their most sacred dreams and wishes and both would agree that it was to conceal their real hurt rather than confess that they needed that twinkling of an eye when they believed that someone cared. They would share memories that made them smile and create new ones together that were crocked and insignificant to the naked eye. When the night was at its darkest he would hear her say three little words that he had shouted to her the first time he had kissed her a long time ago when he had no more fear left in him.

If they understood their attraction they would realize that their aftermath that started out as a mistake would be disasters way of saying 'I'm so sorry for your Weasley'. But they didn't know how _right_ felt and they had more knowledge in hardship than many. Both Harry and Lavender knew that no aftermath was this good so in the end and despite both of them having that feeling of authentic _something_, they would both say that this growing thing between them was merely their way of trying to forget a Weasley.

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